Can't Explain It, Can't Tell You Why
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: "The resemblance she had with her mother was striking. But even more than this, she was... beautiful. In an unpretentious short of way. She appeared almost angelic, with a round, pretty face and doe, blue eyes. The music seemed to fade away, but still just float, just beyond consciousness, as time seemed to slow down. In all his life, Marty had never seen a creature so beautiful.
1. Chapter 1: Uptown Girl

**Chapter 1: Uptown Girl **

Marty Walker glanced around his dorm room at Yale, sinking into his desk chair in exhaustion. It took a lot of effort to make a house a home, and half of the room was still empty; his roommate had yet to arrive. Marty had always considered himself a light packer, relatively speaking, but then again his mother had helped him pack most of his stuff. Moving out nine months hence would take several trips up and down those flights of stairs, at least.

With nothing else to do, and with his first Orientation activity not starting for a couple of hours, Marty decided to explore a little of campus. He wandered off into the sunshine, keeping a tight hold on his campus map even as he let it hang limp by his side. He wanted to remain inconspicuous and not look like a nerd. The clear-cut signs of "freshman" would only work for so long, and was that really any better than looking like a nerd? Marty didn't think so.

Heading out the back way of his dorm, which was called Durfee, Marty circled the building, passing through a small quad that emerged into a brick thoroughfare. The electric atmosphere looked somewhere between a moving day and a party - in other words - the quintessential college scene. Somewhere close by, some student was blaring the radio out through a window:

_"Uptown girl, she's been living in her uptown world. I bet she's never had a backstreet guy. I bet her mama never told her why..."_

Marty spied a coffee cart just across the brick path from Durfee, with a clear line already forming. He leapt into it, figuring that a cappuccino might do him some good, calm his nerves. A pair of sorority sisters (if their hats were anything to go by) were ahead of him in line, their conversation cutting into the thumping of Billy Joel.

"And then I said, 'You're gorgeous'! And then he was, like, 'You wanna find out just how gorgeous, gorgeous?'"

"Who was this?"

"You know, the really gorgeous one!"

"Jesus, there are so many gorgeous ones, I can't keep them all straight!" Marty huffed. He didn't realize he had voiced that thought aloud until both girls glanced back at him, before falling into peals of laughter. Marty blushed beet red and glanced at his feet. So much for being inconspicuous. Those two probably thought he was a weirdo now.

Moving his feet robotically in line as the queue shortened, Marty happened to glance across the path to the front side of Durfee. A mother and daughter were hugging it out on the front stoop, and - for some reason he couldn't explain - he felt drawn to them.

The mother alone probably turned a lot of heads; she looked well-put together and amazingly youthful. Marty thought back to a book he had read in high school, _Tuck Everlasting_. If that mother had somehow found a mysterious spring, he wanted to know where it was. It seemed pretty remarkable that she could be dropping off an 18-year-old, if their fierce hug indicated that her daughter was a freshman. But it was the young girl she was hugging that made Marty almost freeze.

The resemblance she had with her mother was striking. But even more than this, she was... _beautiful_. In an unpretentious short of way. She appeared almost angelic, with a round, pretty face and doe, blue eyes. Her light, brown hair cascaded down to her shoulders.

_"Uptown girl, she's been living in her white bread world. As long as anyone with hot blood can, and now she's looking for her downtown man. That's what I am..." _

The music seemed to fade away, but still just float, just beyond consciousness, as time seemed to slow down. In all his life, Marty had never beheld a creature so beautiful. He thought back to a verse from _Romeo and Juliet_: "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this..." Well, it wasn't night, but the sentiment was apropos just the same.

* * *

Marty did not see the girl again until closer to evening, as he fell in line to have his picture taken for his Yale swipe card. Her face was so beautiful, it was almost jarring when it appeared, this time a few people ahead of him in line. It made Marty wish he had gotten here just a few minutes earlier. He watched, periodically glancing away so that she would not become aware of his staring and almost certainly get creeped out, as the girl reached the head of the queue and stood before the photographer. The snap of the flash was quick and blinding, and the girl jumped a little at it, blindly accepting the card that was spat out of the machine and handed to her. As she crossed past the line in the opposite direction, Marty saw her inspect her card. From the look of disappoint, even frustration, on her face, it was clear she felt that she had looked better. As the girl passed by where Marty was standing in line, he gazed after her and wanted to call out:

_I still think you look beautiful. _


	2. Chapter 2: Just Say Hello

**Chapter 2: Just Say Hello**

Rory turned before entering the building to give her mom one last wave.

Lorelai had teased her for getting out the door so early, but it was the first day of classes! Didn't she understand how exciting and important that was? If you only left on time, something like a long coffee line, or a room relocation could set you back, and this was not a day to be late. You might get stuck with a crappy seat, or they might run out of handouts.

The halls weren't full by any means, but there was enough activity that Rory felt like electricity was crackling in the air. Either that, or she had forgotten to throw a dryer sheet in her laundry.

She started to wonder if the other people around her were trying to get to class early, just like her. At Stars Hollow and Chilton she had often been the first one in the classroom, but that was high school. Maybe Ivy League colleges were full of people who arrived early. So you have to arrive super early to be early, and if you were just plain, old 'high school early' you were actually –

_Late!_ Rory thought with sudden panic.

She didn't realize how much her pace had quickened as she glided around the last corner. When she reached the door of the classroom, she burst in, ready to greet all the other early birds.

Rory felt her posture collapse a little as she sighed, looking around at the empty room.

_So much for there being anyone else like me._

She shrugged off her disappointment and looked on the bright side – she still had first pick for the seating. Rory pulled out a chair on the far side of the table so her back would be to the window. She sat down and looked around, her hands drumming impatiently.

_No, no, this won't do,_ she quickly realized and stood up.

She moved down the table, farther from the door (which would be almost as distracting as the windows). This time her seat felt right: a proper balance of angles and distances from the blackboard, windows, and door. After she put her bag down, she sat poised for class, happily tapping her hands as she tried to contain her giddy excitement. She checked her watch and frowned. It was earlier than she thought. To kill some time, she decided to get in a good bit of reading before class started.

She had barely cracked the book open before her mother's voice crept back into her head. Yes, it was good to be early, but was she being ridiculously early? She looked at her watch again and rolled her eyes at herself. What had once seemed like a comfortable cushion, now seemed like a gaping chasm of time. She should leave now and come back later like a normal student.

_Maybe I could go back to the coffee cart and grab a Danish._ Sheepishly, she picked up her bag and started to rise.

But she plopped right back down again, startled by the door being opened. Her heart was racing, as if she had been caught vandalizing, while she quickly changed gears from trying to escape, to trying to look comfortable.

Glancing up, she saw a friendly looking boy with curly brown hair. He set his bag on the table, giving her a small smile.

_Say something,_ she scolded herself, but quickly backed down. She would sound like she was part of some bizarre welcoming committee.

She snuck a peek again as the boy tucked in his chair. He smiled again, and this time it was warmer. He looked just as scared and nervous and awkward as she did.

_All you have to say is, 'Hi, I'm Rory.'_ She opened her mouth, ready to speak.

* * *

Thirteen years. In thirteen years, he had never once made it to his first class of the year on time. No matter what he did, something always happened. In elementary school, it took his parents a day or two to get up to speed with the new morning routine. When he started taking a bus, that first day always dragged out with parents giving prolonged goodbye hugs, or some massive traffic jam caused delays.

Now he was finally in full control of his morning and he refused to let his guard down. If he had gone to the cafeteria with his roommate, he might have lost track of time, or he might not have had the guts to leave early out of fear of his roommate laughing at him, or he would have dumped a tray of food on himself and had to go back to his room to change. _Something _would have happened, he was sure. It was like a comedy blend, with the ridiculous events happening in rapid succession. Kindergarten, he had cried and cried until he had wet his pants. Fourth grade, he had overslept. Junior year, it had been a goddamn terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. He would not let the universe mess this up. Today was his first day of his first year of college, and he was determined to start off on the right foot. No more bumbling, dopey, hapless Mar –

"Ah!" he yelped, as his ankle rolled off the edge of the sidewalk and he tumbled sideways into the low bushes lining the path. Huh. Maybe he _should_ have gone to the cafeteria with his roommate.

He jumped back up as quickly as possible and checked himself, ignoring the chuckles of nearby students. No injuries, no tears in his clothing, just some leaves here and there. He fluffed the bushes to erase the dent he made in them, grateful that the incident hadn't turned into an actual set back.

When he got to the coffee cart, there was quite a line, but it would take just as long to wait in it as it would to find somewhere else to grab a bite. If it took _too _long, he could always bail out and just be hungry during his first class, he reasoned.

At the front of the line, the taller of two brunettes was chatting and flirting loudly with the vendor, as he prepared their orders. Marty took out a small novel and turned to the bookmarked page. He kept his eyes on the print in front of him, but had trouble staying focused due to the chatter coming from a bench near the middle of the line. If he wasn't mistaken, it was those same damn girls from the coffee line across the way from Durfee during Orientation Day.

"What? I just asked what his name was."

"Yes, right before you offered to have his babies."

"I did not."

"'What do you think we should name the children?' is the same thing."

"Prude."

"Slut."

Marty did his best to stifle his guffaw. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the line was moving along so that he was almost in front of the talkative girls. Reading was a lost cause for now, but having his eyes locked on the book kept him from looking up and giving away that he had been listening to them.

"Excuse me, I haven't even been on a date in I don't know how long. I hardly think I qualify as a slut. How about a tease?"

"You're only a tease if what you do gets them hot," said the other girl, with a slightly affected tone to her voice.

"I don't do anything," the first one said in exasperation, playing along.

_That's why you're a tease,_ he thought, finishing the quote in his head this time as the other girl spoke it aloud. The last time he had weighed in, it had been out loud, and they had laughed at him. Marty tried to confine his amused smile to the right side of his face where they couldn't see it.

"All right, I can tell you're starting to get impatient. Which way do we go from here?"

The girls walked away, and Marty noticed there were only a couple people in front of him now. He glanced at his watch, glad that there was still a good amount of time before class. When he got his order, he took a seat at a nearby bench. His more cautious side was telling him to take the coffee and Danish to the classroom and eat it there, but he was sure that was some sort of social faux pas, and decided he could tempt the fates a little while longer. He could finish everything and still get to class in plenty of time.

After he polished off his breakfast, he threw away his trash, then visited a bathroom to wash his hands and make sure he didn't have any cherry jelly on his face.

When Marty walked into the classroom he was surprised to find it was already occupied by a fidgeting girl. He smiled at her and caught her eye for a moment.

That was when he realized: it was _her_! _She_ was in one of his classes?! And unless things drastically changed in the next five minutes…. could he dare to hope that they were the only two people in the class? Not likely – Yale was a big campus. The teacher and student ratio did not lend itself to small classes, even if the class was as specific as... he checked his printed out class schedule. Japanese Fiction.

At that moment, Marty heard a voice in his head. A voice that didn't sound like him. It was almost as though it was the voice of God – or at least what sounded like the voice of God. Marty had no idea what God sounded like, being a fairly irreligious person. In any case, this voice sounded like a weird cross between Morgan Freeman and Charlton Heston. The voice said:

_That's your wife._

He frowned in confusion at the word. He felt dizzy. Wife? What did the Big God Voice know about wives? Unless it really _was_ God, and he could see into the future. Oh, he hoped that was so!

_Go talk to her_, the God voice nudged, commanded. _Go talk to her!_

_Speak!_ he urged himself, and this time, the voice in Marty's head sounded like himself. But she had already turned away from him. He watched her laugh nervously and tuck her hair behind her ear, looking eager and ready for class.

He felt like an intruder, so he seated himself as quietly as possible. He immediately regretted his selection. First off, being this far away from the only other person in the room was incredibly awkward. Second, the blackboard was mostly behind him. If the professor wrote anything up there, he'd have to twist in his seat to see it. But it was too late. He had already taken a seat and there was someone else in the room. He'd look like a weirdo trying out different seats, or worse yet, like a creep who wanted to get closer to her.

When she looked back up again, he smiled and thought, _Look, just say, 'Hi, I'm Marty.'_

For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something, but then the TA snapped the door open. As Marty peeked under a page of the syllabus, he sighed, lamenting the end of orientation week, when it hadn't been strange to strike up a conversation in line or in the elevator. Now, it was like everyone on campus had curled back into their shells, including him.

* * *

Rory wasn't sure if she was grateful for, or annoyed at the interruption. Although, silently watching the TA distribute the syllabi to empty chairs was uncomfortable, it was better than the non-conversation she'd been having with her classmate. On the other hand, she had been _this close_ to starting a conversation, and now she wasn't sure if she could muster the courage again.

She pretended to busy herself with reading the packet, as if she didn't already know the class met on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. She looked over and saw her classmate watching the TA expectantly, not quite like a kiss-up, but more like a lost puppy waiting for his next instruction.

The TA lightly scoffed, "Freshmen," before stepping out.

_Excuse me?_ Rory thought, scrunching up her face. She shared a bashful look with the boy before turning to the next page.

_Okay, maybe there's __**one**__ person like me._


	3. Chapter 3: Love At First Sight

**Chapter 3: Love at First Sight**

In the middle of the night, in the middle of Rory's first week at Yale, she got up to go to the restroom down the hall. Throwing a light blue bathrobe over her pajama tap and drawstring pants, she padded out into the hallway in her slippers. Just then, something caught her eye.

In a doorway across the hall, a body lay prone and sprawled. A young man without a stitch of clothing on. He was even snoring. Glancing about and finding no one else, Rory tentatively approached. She reached out a hand, but drew back, studying him for a moment. She had never seen a naked man before - not even her own father, the few times he had stayed in Stars Hollow. She elected to tickle the stranger with the string of her robe to rouse him. He awoke, his eyes working hard to focus in on her.

"Hi."

"Hi," she replied, a little wary.

"I'm on the floor."

"You were sleeping."

"I have no clothes on."

"No. You don't," she shook her head tightly.

"I'm on the floor. I have no clothes on. And you're a girl. So I must be..."

"... on the wrong floor," Rory supplied.

"Oh, boy."

"What's your room?"

"I think... up?" Clearly, he had been drinking. Or gotten a nasty bump on the head. Either way - "Are we on the first floor?"

"Yes."

"Then up. Any idea how long I've been here?"

"Nope."

"So you have no idea how many people have walked by while I...?"

Rory gave a helpless shrug. "Nope. Sorry."

"Great. Now for the rest of my time at Yale, I'm gonna be The Naked Guy." At least he had a sense of humor.

"I'm sorry."

"And you know what's great? Tomorrow, when the nickname The Naked Guy starts spreading around campus like wildfire, I'm gonna be in my third hour of throwing up," he groaned.

"Well, it's been really quiet out here for a while now, so... there's a chance that no one but me has seen you yet," Rory tried to be helpful.

"Oh yeah?"

"I promise I won't say anything. And if there's a chance that you could refrain from being naked in a hallway at the next party, then... there's a chance you might get a completely different nickname like... The Never Naked Guy."

"You're a very kind person," the young man started to rise.

"Wait! Hold on!" Rory ordered before she got an eyeful of... stuff, which had thankfully up till now had been covered by the floor. "You can borrow this." Turning her back, she shook the bathrobe loose from her shoulders and felt him take it gratefully from her. She remained that way as he dressed, biting her lip awkwardly.

"Hey, weren't you in my Japanese fiction class today?" He asked her.

"Yeah, that's right."

"I thought so. Hi..." And Rory turned back to face him. "I'm... Marty."

She giggled. "Rory."

"I won't remember that tomorrow."

"That's... perfectly understandable."

"So I should probably try and find my room, and... my pants, cause that's where I kept my keys."

"So, pants first," Rory acknowledged.

Marty stumbled past her for the stairwell.

"Night," Rory called after him.

"Yup. I'm officially stupider than my brother," Marty said half to himself.

Rory did not know it then, but she had just met someone who would change her life forever.

* * *

It was only a couple days later before she saw Marty again. It was in the mess hall on a Saturday morning, and Paris had only woken them both up just in the nick of time, but both girls had had to run to the dining commons in their pajamas before it closed their breakfast hours.

Getting out of line, that's when Rory spotted him, at a table by himself. She recognized his dark curls instantly, and found herself strangely drawn to him. She knew what it was like to be lonely; she had eaten by herself for most of her first year at Chilton.

"Come on, Rory," Paris called over her shoulder.

"I'll... be right there," Rory replied vaguely, as she drifted to Marty's table. Cautiously, she plunked down beside him.

"Hi... Marty."

He jumped, startled, but even after recognizing her as the girl who had saved him in the hall that first night in the dorms, he eyed her warily. "You hesitated."

"Huh?"

"You were thinking of calling me Naked Guy, weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't!" Rory smiled genuinely. "And I thought we didn't want anyone else to know? You might want to keep your voice down." She laughed a little.

Marty still appeared quizzical. "_We_?"

Rory shrugged. "Your secret is my secret. That's what friends do, right?"

It was a bit presumptuous of her, this being only their second time meeting, but in college, especially one as daunting as Yale, everyone needed friends. Paris was fine, but she had her own unique uses. Like keeping her grounded... and sometimes intimidated. And Rory found that, at least in terms of friends who kept her light and happy, she was in short supply.

Marty finally grinned. "Yeah. It's nice to not feel judged."

"Rule Number One of the Breakfast Club, my friend."

"I take it you're Molly Ringwald?"

"Only if you'll be my Anthony Michael Hall," Rory wittily bantered back. "Now all we gotta do is recruit at least three others... Hey, Paris!" she called across the din. "Wanna be our Ally Sheedy?"

Paris frowned. "You deserve an all-day detention just for that reference. Get outta your campy fantasies, Gilmore!"

Rory and Marty both laughed.

* * *

When Rory returned from her first morning class, the only person she found in her suite was Tana.

"Oh, hey, Rory!" the bubbly classmate babbled. "A boy stopped by here about fifteen minutes ago. He had something for you. He left it in your room."

_A boy?_ Rory frowned, crossing to the double room which housed her and Paris. Only a few weeks into Yale, she still didn't know that many boys yet. _Why would a boy bring... Oh._

She opened the door and found herself smiling with warm affection, as she spied a familiar bundle on her bed.

Her blue bathrobe had been returned. Not only that, it had been meticulously washed, dried and even folded. Crossing to the bed, Rory discovered a note on top: _Thanks for the robe, Molly Ringwald. My roommate wanted to try it on, but I wouldn't let him. I owe you one - perhaps a study session in Sterling? Sincerely, Anthony Michael Hall a.k.a. Marty Walker a.k.a. Your Neighbor in Durfee 205. _

Rory smiled softly to herself. Ah. So Marty did live in this building. She remembered seeing him go up the stairs the night they were first properly introduced. He was just one floor above her, in fact. She considered the suggestion for a study date in Sterling, then immediately slapped herself. Wait - a date? This didn't have to be a date; Marty hadn't even alluded to it as one. It was just a study session... and a golden chance for Rory to branch out and facilitate for herself her first, purely Yale friendship. Besides... she had to admire Marty's wits. It was cute. Biting back a grin, she searched around for a sheet of looseleaf. Finding none immediately available, she merely flipped over the sticky note, and wrote a reply on the back. Grabbing a role of tape, she hurried out the door and clopped up the steps to the third floor, finding Room 305 just off the landing. Taping the note to the door, Rory knocked and then promptly ran off and hid at the bottom of the stairs. However, she stayed in sight just enough that she could see Marty's door open and the man himself step out.

He closed the door as he stepped into the hallway fully, glancing this way and that for the mysterious knocker. Turning back around and reaching for the handle, Rory watched him notice the taped note, placed right at his eye level. He removed it, read the reply, then flipped it over to see that it was his very note repurposed. A small smile curled along Marty's face and he slipped back into his room. From the landing below, Rory matched his grin.


	4. Chapter 4: Study Dates

**Chapter 4: Study Dates**

"I think what Miyazaki is trying to say here is that capitalism can weaken the soul. You can interpret that clearly from the imagery of Chihiro's parents being turned into pigs. They are consumerist pigs."

"Do you think that says something about China's culture? That this film has an anti-American agenda?" Rory asked, fascinated by Marty's take on the subject.

They were in the basement of Sterling Memorial Library, a rather quiet and secluded place perfect for studying. Over the last few weeks, Rory and Marty had met up here on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, to prepare for the class lecture the following day. They were currently knee-deep in a unit on Hayao Miyazaki, the Japanese filmmaker who wrote such movies as _Spirited Away_. It was a fascinating topic, Rory had decided, if also a little eccentric. And Marty seemed enthused by the exploration and analysis... at least, when he was alone with her.

Which begged the question...

"Why don't you ever speak up in class?" she asked him gently. "You have some really good ideas."

Tellingly, Marty found it difficult to look at her. His face had turned red, even in the dim lighting of the library basement. "I guess I feel like it is my way of getting a fresh start at Yale."

Rory's face crinkled into a baffled smile. "By pooching your participation grade?"

"No, not like that!" Marty chuckled a little. "It's just that in high school, when I would speak up, I was always the nerd. And where I come from, 'nerd' was just a synonym for 'weird'."

Rory laughed. "I think it's like that everywhere, Marty. In my hometown, Stars Hollow, I went to high school there for a year. I know the other kids viewed me that way. But then, I transferred to Chilton, and everyone else was like me."

"And that's where you met Paris," Marty grinned bemusedly. "I marvel at the kind of friendship you have. You just seem so... diametrically opposed."

"To some degree," Rory conceded. "But you still really haven't answered my question: why don't you speak up in class... but can so easily discuss and debate with me?"

Now, Marty's whole body seemed to flush. "Because, I'm... drawn to you," he admitted. "When you talk in class, everyone listens. People can't help but listen to you and watch you." His voice seemed to almost trail off but not quite as he stared at her earnestly. Seeing her blush, he threw in a crack. "I guess that comes from being on the senior debate team, and with Paris, no less. Boy, I could never do something like that."

"You never know until you try," Rory smiled at him kindly. "You just need 20 seconds of courage."

"20 seconds? Why 20 seconds?" Marty frowned.

"I don't know. It's something my mom taught me," Rory said. "You can get a lot done in a matter of seconds if you do it before you lose your nerve. In class, raise your hand before anyone else, let the professor call on you and just... talk." Her gaze dropped away to the tabletop as she admitted, more quietly, "I like listening to you talk."

Marty beamed. "I like listening to you too."

Rory smiled back at him through her lashes.

* * *

"I think Miyazaki's message is a damning indictment of consumerist culture. And I wonder if that has implications for China's relationship with America in the 21st century?" Marty postulated in their next lecture.

"Implications, indeed," their professor smiled. "I'm impressed, Mr. Walker. Let's keep going with that thread..."

Marty sank back into his chair, feeling relieved and... better about himself. Catching Rory's glance, she gave him a proud smile and a thumbs up. He grinned bashfully back, and hoped to himself to he could only make her so proud for all the rest of their time here.

Dr. Chen released them from their lecture early, handing back the first drafts for their latest paper, and Marty gathered his things. As he headed out into the hallway, he heard the scampering of feet and a call of his name. Turning, he waited for Rory to fall in step beside him.

"I'm so proud of you!" she gushed, hugging him sideways. "Anyways, I was wondering... "

"Yes?" Marty grinned.

"... if you would want to peer-edit each other's papers." Rory was biting her lip shyly, and she seemed to bobble a little on the question. Marty couldn't help the nagging feeling that the question had not been the one she wanted to ask. But he put it out of his mind as he said, "Sure. I'd love that. Want to swap and we can share our suggestions tomorrow in Sterling?"

"Plan on it," Rory beamed, splitting up outside the lecture hall and taking off for a coffee cart just in sight. "See you later, Marty!" she called over her shoulder.

Marty watched her go with an affectionate smile. She was so lovely.

* * *

The Tuesday and Thursday study dates grew longer. Marty and Rory would edit each other's papers, while talking and laughing long into the night. Sometimes, when one or the other grew tired, the sleepy person would use their companion as a pillow. It soon was not an unusual occurrence to find Rory with her legs resting in Marty's lap, or Marty to have his head on Rory's shoulder.

Coffee hang-outs soon joined the study sessions; the cart that often commandeered the walkway outside Durfee was a favorite. Rory and Marty would meet up outside each other's suites to walk to Japanese Fiction together.

It was rapidly evolving into a beautiful friendship.


	5. Chapter 5: The Grandparents

**Chapter 5: The Grandparents**

"I think I have officially eaten a third of cow," Richard drolly mused, contemplating their lunch. They were at their tailgating campsite before the Harvard/Yale game. Rory's grandparents were both decked out in the finest Yale regalia, keeping their sweatshirts and scarves close to battle the chilly fall air.

"This steak is incredible," Rory agreed.

"I'm glad you're all enjoying it," a pleased Emily bubbled. "Lorelai, how's your steak?" Her daughter stabbed an entire slab in response and dangled it in front of her face.

"That's it, hand over the plastic."

"What's wrong with the plastic?" Lorelai asked in offense. But Rory was no longer paying attention. "I wonder what's going on over there?"

It was Dan, the current mascot for Yale. Emily and Richard excitedly insisted they go over and say Hello to the bulldog. As Emily fed a slice of jerky to the dog, Rory heard a voice calling her. "Rory!"

Turning, her face broke into a beaming smile. "Marty!" she hurried over.

"He's everywhere today," Marty observed with a smile, glancing to Dan.

"Come on, I want you to meet my mom," Rory said, eagerly linking his arm through hers. Lorelai was trying to encourage Dan to make his escape from her parents when they walked up.

"Mom, I want you to meet Marty."

Lorelai stood, breaking out into a grin that appeared almost curious. "Ah, Naked Guy!"

Marty smiled tightly. "You told your mother about me," he chuckled, embarrassed, to Rory.

"I included some anecdotes where you were clothed!" Rory insisted, turning slightly pink. Richard had now walked up.

"And who is this young man?"

"This is Marty. He lives in my residence hall," Rory introduced.

"It's very nice to meet you, Marty," Emily greeted, and interestingly, she appeared genuine.

"Did my daughter just call you Naked Guy?" Richard asked, watching as Marty's face fell in abject horror.

"I now owe you money," Rory whispered in mortification.

But when Marty sheepishly told his story, Richard laughed it off. "Oh, that's nothing. I was naked for an entire month my sophomore year."

"What?" Rory squeaked. Both Lorelai and Emily leveled queasy protestations, as Richard lectured in a soothing baritone about how best to get naked and stay naked, Marty grinning like a cat the entire time. Emily offered for Marty to join them in eating, but he begged off. "There's a party going on the lawn and I was wondering if Rory wanted to come?"

"Sure," Rory grinned. "Lead the way." The pair strolled off, Richard gazing after them curiously. "I like that boy."

"Prove it, drop your pants!" Lorelai quipped.

Marty and Rory ambled leisurely down towards the lawn. "Your mother looks amazing for her age," Marty mumbled bashfully.

Rory threw back her head and laughed. "All my guy friends say that. They can't believe she's only 34."

"You're joking," Marty stared.

Rory shook her head. "She had me when she was 16. Raised me all by herself."

"She raised you all by herself?" Rory nodded. "Wow," Marty breathed. "She must be an incredible woman." He paused for a moment. "What about your dad?"

Rory shrugged. "He travels a lot. I don't see him much. He's not a bad guy, but he... just wasn't ready to be a dad."

"I'm sorry," Marty murmured soothingly.

"It doesn't bother me," Rory sent him an easy smile to put his mind at ease.

* * *

It was Friday Night Dinner at the Gilmore residence, a few weeks after the tailgate event. The family was sipping drinks in the living room, Emily babbling on about the DAR's latest function.

"And we are going to have egru for the tablecloths..." she faltered when she noticed Rory with her face buried in a sheet of paper. "Rory, are you listening to me?"

"Oh, sorry, Grandma, I was just reading," Rory exclaimed sheepishly.

"And what on earth are you reading? Is that your homework?"

"Oh, no, I'm peer-reviewing Marty's paper for our Japanese Fiction class."

Emily looked agog. "You're doing that boy's homework for him?!"

"No, we're just critiquing each other's drafts. It's a system we have."

"So you _are_ helping him with his homework, then?" Emily gasped. "Rory!"

"Emily, it is perfectly acceptable for one to critique a classmate's work," Richard intoned soothingly. "It is not cheating. Nor is it outside the bounds of Yale's academic code."

"Yeah, and then Marty and I compare notes at our biweekly study sessions all the time," Rory backed him up.

Emily was studying her granddaughter curiously, the tiniest upturn of her lips gracing her face. Then, she suddenly stood and asked, "Rory, can I speak with you for a moment, please?"

Rory looked to her mother for help, silently asking, _What did I do?_ but Lorelai just shrugged. The youngest Gilmore meekly followed her grandmother into the kitchen, where the maids and staff were making final preparations for the night's meal. Emily turned to face her granddaughter and paused, as if she was waiting for something. When the staff continued about their business, she groaned, "Oh for Pete's sake! Can't my grandchild and I have a private conversation?" The help scurried away. Finally alone, Emily turned her attention back to Rory.

"Grandma -"

"How long have you been seeing Marty?"

Rory's mouth dropped open, and in spite of herself, she giggled. "What?"

"You're pleased. So you _are_ dating him!"

"No, I'm not!" Rory denied, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

"But you like the idea," Emily pounced.

"Grandma -"

"Rory, I may be an old woman, but I am still a woman. He's in one of your classes, lives above you in the same residence hall. You practically dragged him clear across the parking lot to meet us at the football game; he's the leading man in _every_ story you tell. So I just want you to answer me honestly: do you have feelings for this young man?"

There was a long, telling silence. Rory glanced down at her feet. "I... I..." She faltered. "I don't know."

Emily smiled, taking it as a victory. "I appreciate your honesty. Thank you." Then she swept from the kitchen as if nothing had happened, leaving a confused Rory in her wake.

* * *

It was a sleepless night when Rory got back late from Friday Night Dinner. Paris's incessant snoring from the other bed didn't help matters. Rory's thoughts were consumed by what her grandma had said at dinner that night.

Perhaps Grandma had merely given voice to thoughts Rory had herself, but didn't know were there. _Did_ she have feelings for Marty? He was certainly her best friend, but was that really the whole story? Was there more to how she enjoyed hearing him speak more and more frequently in class, or how his deep green eyes lit up about literature, or how she felt... happy when he would creep up behind her at the coffee cart unexpectedly...?

The groan escaped her lips involuntarily, and she jerked as she became consciously aware of her body: her one palm was buried inside of herself. How did it get there? And with an image of Marty dancing in her head? But once, she became aware of the urge, she could not cast it away. Stroking her clit and keening into herself, Rory imagined Marty. Marty touching her, Marty... kissing her. Kissing him back. Marty making sweet love to her in the basement of Sterling where no one could hear her scream...

A wave of pleasure and sticky liquid crashed over the shore of her folds and she whimpered quietly into her free hand, clapped over her own mouth to stifle her moans. Dying of shame, she flung herself out of bed and peeled the ruined pajamas off of herself, leaving them to soak in the bathtub before leaping back into bed.

She didn't sleep at all that night.

* * *

Just above her, Marty was having a similar problem.

Unlike Rory, Marty had no illusions about when it started. He knew exactly when it had started. But since becoming friends and study partners, Marty had let the thought of anything... more fall back to the periphery of his mind.

Was he seeing things? Was he mad? Rory always seemed so happy to see him at their little get-togethers. He could feel her eyes on him as they discussed points in class. And the way she had linked her arm through his at the football game, looking almost proud to show him off to her family. Was it possible that she... _wanted_ him? Rory Gilmore, with her azure blue eyes that danced like sapphires when she laughed. Rory, with her smile and full lips, and those brown curls he just wanted to caress his fingers through...

Next second, his pillow was between his legs and he was driving his pelvis into the edge of it, feeling his hardness grow and fill. He grunted a little, imaging it was Rory's cute tiny frame under him and thrust faster. He really must be going batty, if he could hear her cooing and sighing in his head.

_Marty..._ she crooned. _Marty... _

That did it.

With a final grunt, Marty ejaculated into his pants. Only until the throbbing cease did he realize what he had just done. Damnit.

He stripped, tossing his pajama pants into a corner and cleansing himself, before crawling back into bed with nothing to cover him from the waist down. If there were any doubts left, they were gone now. He was in love with his best friend. He was in love with Rory Gilmore.


	6. Chapter 6: Safe

**Chapter 6: Safe **

Rory arrived in the basement of Sterling one night looking less than pleased. In fact, she appeared deeply upset. There was a clear redness behind her eyes, as if she had been crying. Marty glanced up, frowning in creased concern when he saw her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, barely having time to stand from their favorite desk before Rory was throwing herself into his arms, coming utterly apart on his shoulder.

Marty froze, completely at a loss for what to do. He had no idea how to address the pleasing rush he felt in getting to hold Rory this way, but even that was beside the point. In the close to full semester he had known her - a good three or four months - he had never seen Rory cry like this. Hell, he had never seen her cry at all. She had never struck him as being a particularly emotional person; on the contrary, he felt her to be quite strong. Marty admired that in a woman, and especially in her. So how was he to combat his favorite girl blubbering like a baby?

"Well, now, what's ailing the Belle of Stars Hollow?" he chuckled, in what he hoped was a valiant effort at comfort. The invocation of her beloved hometown made Rory only cry harder.

"I'm failing!" she wailed, clinging to him tighter.

"Failing what? Not Japanese Fiction, I hope?" Marty cracked. She didn't take the bait. OK, time to switch tactics. Joking with her wasn't working. Marty resorted to rubbing her back, even rocking her a little as her sobs subsided into sniffles. "Failing what?" he asked again, after she sufficiently calmed down. "What's the class?"

"Introduction to Musical Theatre," Rory peered up into his face, as if expecting him to laugh at her. He didn't move. "Go ahead, laugh it up. Everyone says it's an easy A!"

"And on whose authority did you get that information? Paris?" Marty shook his head. "There are no easy A classes at Yale - not even a theatre course! For that, you at least need to have a cursory knowledge of American theatre history and a layman's understanding of music theory. Most folks can't read music anyway!"

"Yeah, and when I took a Music Composition course at Chilton, I nearly failed it! So what does that tell you?" Rory sniffed.

"Nothing that's relevant," Marty shrugged. He guided her into the chair across from him, scooting his own up to clasp her hands in his. "What did the professor say? Did he ask you to drop the course? Add/Drop is already past!"

"No. I think he likes me and feels sorry for me. I thought I had a handle on it, but the lectures since Fall Break have gotten harder!"

Marty pursed his lips in thought. "Well, sounds to me like you need to re-evaluate your study habits. Prove this guy wrong." An idea came to him. "Hey, maybe you can audition for the spring musical; aren't those the week before finals? I would think that would be a course requirement anyway!"

"It isn't," Rory stated, eyeing Marty warily.

"So go try out for extra credit! Your professor's the director, for Christ's sakes! You might not get extra credit, but at least you'll be demonstrating effort!" Realizing what he said, he tried to backpedal. "I mean, I'm not saying you don't show effort, cause you do. I..."

Rory laughed and smiled for the first time all evening. "I know what you meant, Marty. Thank you." The light in her eyes dimmed. "But I haven't performed in years. I sucked at ballet with Miss Patty back home. And I've only ever been on stage for one scene at Chilton - we had to perform a piece from _Romeo and Juliet_."

"Who did you play?" Marty asked, genuinely curious.

"Juliet," Rory mumbled. Was that a blush to her cheeks?

_I can see why_, Marty thought to himself. He tried not to think of the lucky bastard who got to play Romeo. Newly resolved, he stood up. "Well, we mustn't waste any time. You must prepare. That means dusting off your ballet shoes..."

"They're at home," Rory protested weakly.

"Don't need 'em," Marty plowed straight ahead. "And preparing a 16-bar cut of a song you like. Really, it can be anything, but directors usually prefer you sing from the musical theatre genre - and _not_ a song from the show you are auditioning for."

Rory stared at him, bewildered. "How do you know all this?"

Marty flushed red. "I did theatre for many years when I was young. It fell by the wayside late in high school, but my mentor taught me everything he knew."

They were outside now, in the crisp night just beyond Sterling. Marty turned to face Rory.

"So: what's the show?"

"Beauty and the Beast."

"OK: that means most Disney songs are still in," Marty mused. "Dancing involved to a certain degree... Let's practice waltzing." He waited for her to demonstrate the footwork, but she didn't move. "What is it?"

Rory raised her eyes to his shyly. "Dance with me?" she smiled hopefully.

Marty's tongue caught. "Well, I..."

"DANCE WITH HER!" a couple of senior boys suddenly hollered as they walked past, on their way into the library. Marty held out his hand to her, and after a moment, Rory took it. Tentatively, she placed her free hand on his shoulder. Steeling his courage, Marty responded by lightly gripping Rory's hip. He distinctly heard her breath hitch, which only made his heart speed up more.

"Now..." Marty continued, his voice having oddly dropped to a near whisper. "The footwork is forward, touch, side. Forward, touch side... And 1, 2, 3... 1, 2, 3..."

The pair began to waltz, both of them hearing the Alan Menken ballad in their heads.

_"Tale as old as time... true as it can be... barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly..."_

Marty wasn't sure how long they stood there, waltzing in each other's arms, but suddenly, he became aware of how Rory was resting her head on his chest. He only hoped that she could not hear his staccato heartbeat.

"Rory..." he murmured. "If it would make you feel better... I'll audition with you."

She gazed up into his face. "Would you?" And she looked so elated, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, I'm semi-retired at this point. But I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." Laughing, the pair continued to waltz until just before the library closed.

* * *

Finals had just ended, and the students were scrambling about to depart on Christmas break. Rory had driven herself to the point of exhaustion with her Introduction to Musical Theatre course, managing a B+ in the end. Even so, her real measure of victory seemed to be how she did in the spring musical audition, which she and Marty had both gone for. The friends decided that it was best to brave the casting notice together, with Marty taking the peek for both of them.

"I can't look," Rory averted her gaze. "How bad is it?"

Marty checked. His jaw dropped. "If you think this is bad, I would seriously love to know what good looks like!"

Heartened by his assessment, Rory nudged Marty out of the way to look for herself. "I'm Belle?!"

"You are!" Marty laughed, actually picking her up and spinning her around. He beamed with pride. "This is a coup! An absolute coup! Theatre majors usually get the lead roles!"

Rory bit her lip. "But you're just ensemble."

"There is no 'just a' in theatre," Marty waved away. "Every role's important. Besides, I get to yell at you about bread!"

"Marie, the baguettes! Hurry up!" Rory quipped with a twinkle in her eye.


	7. Chapter 7: Jealousy

**Chapter 7: Jealousy**

Deep into rehearsals, however, Marty was starting to wish he was more than 'just a' bit part in the ensemble.

Coming back for the spring semester, Rory and Marty began production for the musical and got to know their castmates. The way Rory told it, her mother had been deeply surprised that she had gone out for anything remotely performance-oriented, but vowed to be in the front row and ready to film the entire show illegally; guaranteed mockery would commence at a later date.

Marty had fun barking at Rory about baguettes in the opening number, but still wished he could spend more time with her onstage - as one lucky fellow got to, much to his consternation.

The role of the Beast had been given to a fraternity player by the name of Logan Huntzberger. Marty vaguely knew of him; he had bartended for a lot of his parties - giant raves that often lasted long into the night on weekends. The blonde playboy oozed swagger, and a confidence bordering on egotism that made Marty wonder just why he had not been cast in the role of Gaston. It seemed more appropriate, and it would have at least been a treat to watch Rory rebuff his advances.

Instead of knowing she had to kiss the guy at the end.

From the moment the Transformation scene had been blocked, Marty found some excuse to not be present in the room when Logan and Rory had to kiss. His roommate, Carl (who was playing one of the servants), sympathized with him, and seemed to understand clearly that Marty had a thing for Rory.

* * *

For her part, Rory could tell that Logan was clearly interested in her. She never felt comfortable kissing him, even putting off actually doing it until just before tech. The guy at least kept his hands where he should, but in kissing her, he always felt a little too... eager.

"It's so awkward," Rory vented to her mother one night on the phone in her room. "I mean, the guy is easy on the eyes, but personally, he's like..."

"A beast?" Lorelai guessed. Rory could feel her smirking through the phone.

"Smart-ass," Rory scolded, though she felt her lips turn up in amusement. "But yes."

"Oh, babe, stage kisses are never easy," Lorelai commiserated. "I took a theatre class my freshmen year of high school, the year before I was pregnant with you. One of our assignments was staging a kiss scene."

Rory cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who did you have to kiss?" imagining it was some guy with a pompous-sounding last name.

She could feel the mirth before she heard it. "Your dad."

Rory groaned. "Not helping!"

"No. No, perhaps not," Lorelai chuckled. "Here's the thing, sweetie: if you have to kiss this guy in a big, romantic display of public affection, just try and imagine you're kissing someone you want instead. Someone you like. Like, for me, if I were in that situation, I would imagine your dad or George Clooney or Lu..."

"Yes?" Rory pounced, eyes gleaming.

"...Luke Skywalker," Lorelai transitioned smoothly.

"You'd want to make out with Mark Hamill? Eww," Rory made a face.

"Hey! He was gorgeous to look at in the Original Trilogy. Blonde hair, chiseled face - everything you'd want in a man."

"Well, maybe not everything I'd want in a man," Rory pointed out. She broke out into a smile unprompted as she thought about Marty.

"You picturing somebody yet?" Lorelai asked.

Rory bit back her smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime, babe. Bye."

* * *

Uh oh. Here came that damn scene again. Standing in the wings backstage, Marty looked around for a quick exit, hoping to at least get downstairs to the toilets and wait it out there before coming back up in plenty of time for his next cue. "Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom..." he mumbled. He turned around, only to bump right into his roommate, who suddenly made an effort to block him.

"Carl," Marty growled, his teeth tight. "Move." He could hear the music leading up to the big, romantic scene, and he was starting to panic.

But Carl just shook his head, regret in his eyes. "It's for your own good, Marty." And he physically turned his roommate around. Marty tried to avert his eyes, but too late. There was Rory, making out with a clearly ecstatic Logan Huntzberger. And what was worse, is that she seemed to be enjoying herself.

What Marty didn't know, for he could not read minds, was that Rory was imagining that it was Marty holding her... and wishing that Marty was kissing her instead...

It's a good thing her back was to him, for she didn't have to see the heartbreak in Marty's eyes.

The cast finished the run, and were dismissed for the night. Rory and Marty walked back to Durfee in uniform silence. The quiet unnerved Rory, and she kept glancing towards her best friend, willing him to say something, anything. Had he seen? She couldn't imagine that he had - she had noticed how Marty would conspicuously disappear for a moment or two near the end of the play. Then again... observing Marty's stony demeanor, she felt strangely unfaithful somehow. She could still feel the lingering taste of Logan's lips on hers, and she suddenly felt the urge to barf.

"Has he asked you out yet?" Marty suddenly demanded, his voice pinging out as they passed under a streetlight.

"What?" Rory gawped.

"You like him! Don't deny it!" and now the anger clearly laced his tone.

"There's nothing to deny!" Rory huffed in offense. "Because there's nothing between Logan and I!"

"But he wants there to be!" Marty parried. "I saw him tonight - he looked like he'd won an Oscar, the lotto and the presidency all at once! And you weren't exactly complaining!" A horrid thought struck him, and he forced himself to face that traumatic memory, even as his heart tried to cast it out of his head. "Did he _touch_ you?" and Marty almost growled the question.

"No!" Rory gasped, and she looked revolted. Marty hardly noticed, however, and even then, it was small comfort. She peered at him, searching his eyes, and when it dawned on her, her own pupils widened. "You're jealous!" It was a statement, not a question.

"Of _what_?" Marty sneered, not about to reveal how close to home her words really hit.

"I don't care about kissing him!" Rory insisted. "I was actually wishing I was kissing somebody else..." She faltered, noticing the intrigued look behind Marty's lingering anger, and shook her head. "You know what? Forget it. I'll see you tomorrow." She fled for her suite, blinking back tears, a crushed Marty gazing after her. Were they doomed? It appeared so.

"Fine."


	8. Chapter 8: Under Attack

**Chapter 8: Under Attack**

The production of _Beauty and the Beast_ ended, and was a smashing success. But the final curtain did not create any kind of detente between Marty and Rory.

The meet-ups at the campus coffee carts were discontinued now, and even though the pair shared one class together - a course on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict - neither one of them asked the other for a study session in Sterling library.

Marty missed those study sessions. Missed them something fierce. But what could he do about it? Even if he did apologize - the suspected relationship between Logan and Rory had yet to appear - he was cynical enough to believe that he and Rory could never be as close as they once were. Any chance he might have had with her was gone, he knew.

And that belief was all but confirmed for him when he straggled behind in leaving their Israeli-Palestinian conflict class one day... only to round a corner and overhear Logan Huntzberger (with whom they also shared the course) ask Rory if she "might want to grab a coffee sometime?"

Rory didn't see that Marty was there, but when she replied to the blonde playboy that she would "think about it," Marty turned tail and ran, unable to bear hearing anymore. However, if he hadn't fled, he might have seen Rory searching the open doorway of their classroom after Logan left, in the hopes that a certain guy might appear.

Both of them were absolutely miserable.

* * *

It was a Friday morning in Media Representations of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Marty was sitting in the front row of the lecture hall as Professor Samer droned on, pausing in his notes to steal a forbidden glance at the doe-eyed brunette seated just a few rows back and off to the side. She didn't notice, a sad slump to her shoulders as she bent over her notebook. Marty noted, with a twinge, how Logan Huntzberger was seated right by her side.

His heart was in physical pain; he could almost feel it, to see Rory slowly drifting away into the arms of someone who didn't deserve her. The thought of not being with her left him in such agony... his chest constricted, as if a heart could actually, physically break.

And then his chest kept constricting. All at once, Marty felt sweaty, short of breath. His first thought was to leave the lecture hall discreetly, find a bathroom to wash his face in, but his feet wouldn't move. Or at least, they did, but not efficiently, as he barely managed to get out of his row and to the lecture floor before his legs gave out. The blood was pounding hard - too hard. His heart was beating way too fast. Oh, shit... he thought he would have been ready, prepared for something like this. After all, he was living on borrowed time, they all said. Just living on borrowed time...

"Mr. Walker... Mr. Walker!" Professor Samer's voice rapidly faded out. A deadened scream followed, and then Marty felt his body slam into the varnished wood. Blinding lights were flashing before his eyes, his body felt like it was on fire.

A wrenching scream was torn from him.

* * *

Rory had seen Marty try and barely manage to get out of his seat further down the lecture hall, instinctively rising a little out of her own seat in concern. When he fell to the ground, she was halfway down the steps.

"Marty... Marty!" her eyes and her voice were stricken, and she watched in horror as his body began to convulse on the ground. She threw herself at him, shaking him, pleading with him to snap out of it as the entire class stopped and students thronged around the sight, pushing and shoving to get a better look.

All at once, Rory felt Logan at her side, and he nudged her away as gently as he could. Opening an air passage, Logan began feeding air into Marty's unconscious body before pumping his chest with his hands. She didn't know Logan was accomplished in CPR.

"Come on... come on..." the blonde hunk growled.

Rory was full-bore sobbing now, not caring who saw or heard. "Please wake up!" she begged her best friend. "Please wake up!"

No response. The pumping continued. "Come on... come on... come on, Marty!" Logan growled.

Finn had a phone to his ear, calling 911...

* * *

Marty had no idea where he was. Everything was black now, though his body still felt like it was on fire. His bloodstream seemed to have been replaced by liquid flame, searing into him a state of hopelessness.

He was never going to see Rory again... never tell her he loved her... never kiss the breath from her body in the hopes that she just might kiss him back.

Well, there was no point anymore. _If I can't love her, let the world be done with me! God, thy will is hard, but you hold every card. I will drink your cup of poison - nail me to your cross and break me! Bleed me, beat me, kill me, take me now, before I change my mind... _

* * *

The Yale campus police sent an ambulance screaming through Phelps Gate. Rory refused to leave Marty's side, riding with him in the back of the ambulance to the hospital. Logan stayed behind, offering to call her family for her. Rory gratefully agreed, handing over her mother's phone number. Meanwhile, she managed to navigate Marty's dropped cell enough to contact his own family, up in New Hampshire, as the ambulance whirled into Hartford Memorial. Rory jogged alongside the gurney carrying her friend, and when the hospital staff tried to prevent her going back, she lied and said she was his girlfriend, saying anything she had to so as not to be parted from him. Once Marty was hooked up to machines and stabilized, Rory was ushered into his hospital room, where she sat vigil at his bedside to wait.

Lorelai, her grandparents and even Luke arrived about 45 minutes later, shocked and saddened to hear what had occurred. It was actually Emily who suggested that they wait outside, as she could sense the two needed to be alone. The Gilmores and Luke had to content themselves with peering through a one-way window into Marty's room, as Rory clasped his hand in her own.

* * *

Marty took his time coming to. Everything around him was bright and clinically white. Backlit in an almost ethereal glow was the face of an angel - a face he feared he might never see again.

"Rory..."

"Sssh..." she crooned. "I'm here."

The drugs must have lowered his inhibitions, for Marty suddenly found it within himself to caress her cheek. Rory gazed down at him in emotional relief, a few tears falling onto his upturned face like sweet rain.

"I'm so sorry..." he got out. "I thought I'd never see you again..."

Rory turned her face into Marty's palm, her eyes fluttering closed at its warmth. When she opened them again, her gaze drifted downwards so that she noticed something she hadn't before.

On Marty's left wrist were four little holes, creating a rectangular pattern. Connecting the bottom two holes was a pearlized scar of ridged skin. "What's this?" Rory fingered the scar.

Marty chuckled, coughing through the last of it so that Rory had to gently press his chest down into the bedclothes. "I suppose I should explain just what the hell happened back there. Heart attack. It's the first time I've had an issue since I had heart surgery as a baby. Got more scars on my chest to prove it. Those ones on my wrist..." he flicked a finger to brush against where Rory was gripping him. "are from the IVs they stuck me with. They say I kept kicking the tubes out of me."

Rory couldn't believe her ears. Her eyes welled up anew at the thought of a baby Marty, fighting for his life. Moved, she began to press tender kisses into each IV hole of Marty's wrist, then more kisses along the bottom scar. Marty watched her in amazement, transfixed. Was it possible...?

"I missed us talking. I hated it."

"Sssh. We're together now," Rory cooed. She began to sing softly to him: "_We are home. We are where we shall be forever. Trust in me, for you know I won't run away... From today, this is all that I need and all that I need to say. Home should be where the heart is. I'm certain as I can be. I've found home - you're my home. Stay with me..._"

Meanwhile, just outside the door, Luke and the Gilmores observed all this with a range of emotions: confusion, understanding, empathy.

"I don't understand," Luke shook his head.

Lorelai smiled at him knowingly. "She's in love, Luke."

"Yes..." Richard rumbled. "She certainly seems besotted with the boy."

Now Luke nearly stumbled back into the far wall, bewildered. _Rory? Besotted? My baby girl's in love?_ Sure, Rory had dated before, much to her father figure's chagrin, but Luke knew one thing - Rory had _never_ looked at his nephew or even Dean Forrester like that.

In dealing with this news (a development she had long suspected, ever since the Harvard/Yale football game), Lorelai seemed more equipped. Gently, she entered the hospital room. "Rory? Marty's family will be here soon. I think it's time we leave."

"No." Rory's tender gaze didn't move from Marty's face. She made no attempts to rise from her seat. Marty's fingers found, laced through hers and he gave them a soft squeeze.

"Rory?" he called. The gentle timbre of his voice seemed to physically relax Rory. "Go. I'll be fine here."

Rory beamed lovingly at him. She bent forward, and for one mad moment, Lorelai thought this was it, but Rory's lips pressed into Marty's forehead instead, leaving a small trail of wet saliva - a residual of her tears. "I'll be back," she whispered her promise before reluctantly departing.


	9. Chapter 9: 20 Seconds of Courage

**Chapter 9: 20 Seconds of Courage**

With the assistance of a cane, Marty slowly made his way down the hallowed halls of Yale. Media Representations of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict had already started about 20 minutes ago; hopefully, he hadn't missed too much of the lecture. He'd missed enough already.

The past few days in the hospital had been a recuperating, even happy, time for Marty. Rory visited whenever she could, staying with him for hours. Already, he had noticed the little things that had shifted in their relationship since the heart attack: lingering touches, tender smiles. Their relationship had snapped back to what it had been before, and had even grown deeper. Only one question remained: what now? Would they take the plunge? Was there even a plunge to make? He'd soon find out.

He entered the lecture hall, hearing Professor Samer's voice trail off upon catching sight of him. Next instant, the entire class was bursting into applause. And there was Rory, beaming and running down to meet him before she threw her arms around him.

And then she was suddenly kissing him, passionately and on the lips, before springing her mouth away to trail kisses along his face. She looked utterly relieved, until in the next instant, she seemed to remember herself and sprang away looking scandalized.

There were a couple of wolf whistles, perpetuated by Finn and Collin, but Marty ignored them. He was gazing at Rory as if he had never seen her before. Rory in turn was gazing at him helplessly as she confessed, "I love you."

Marty took Rory's hand in his and beamed. "I love you too." And remembering her earlier advice of 20 seconds of courage, he used that time and more to pull Rory close and give her a long, lingering kiss.

She kissed him back eagerly, both of them losing themselves in the affection as the lecture hall erupted in cheers. Professor Samer simply gave up, seating himself at his desk and waiting for the hubbub to die down. Marty and Rory finally broke apart dreamily, and the couple headed back to he seat, Rory not content until she had seated herself fully in Marty's lap.

The lecture passed by in a giddy blur, with the new happy couple leaving the hall hand-in-hand. They only turned when they heard a call of Rory's name.

Logan Huntzberger was approaching them, smiling genuinely. "You know... I think I understand."

"You do?" Rory smiled as she burrowed herself in Marty's arms.

"I knew the minute I saw how you reacted to him seizing. You were hysterical, terrified. Although I hope to never find myself in that situation, someday... I want to love someone that much."

"Thank you, Logan," Marty rumbled, taking Logan's proffered hand to shake.

"I'm happy for you two." And he walked away.

Paris Geller's assessment was less than delirious. Having witnessed the passionate kiss featuring her best friend, she had a few things to say on the subject, specifically to Rory's chosen suitor.

"You'd better do right by her, Walker. Because if you break her heart, I'll break your face!" And she flounced off, ignoring Marty's look of horror in her wake, even as Rory laughed nervously over the attitudes of her dear friend.

Marty and Rory strolled off into the sunshine, their hands clasped as they passed by their favorite coffee cart outside of Durfee. Occasionally, the lovers would steal shy glances at each other before looking away with a blush. Marty walked Rory all the way up to her suite.

"Rory..." he began slowly.

She tilted her head expectantly, her smile in danger of lighting up the sun. "Yes?"

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Rory's eyes widened in shock. Though after the kiss they had shared, she should have been expecting it. "Yes!" she blasted out excitedly. "I'd love to!"

Marty grinned. "Great! See you tomorrow?"

Failing to hide her smile, Rory nodded, then nearly swooned when Marty bent and gave her another loving peck on her lips. He practically flew up the stairs to his dorm room.


	10. Chapter 10: First Date

**Chapter 10: First Date**

Marty took Rory to a jazz club in Hartford for their first date. They listened to the various acts, and danced and had a lovely time.

As they began a romantic stroll home, Rory began to feel nervous. Marty would kiss her when they got back to her suite, she had no doubt of that. And that wasn't what scared her. No, what made her nervous but also thrilled her was the possibility of there being... more than kissing.

And, she surprised herself when she realized: she _wanted_ there to be. More than kissing.

She and Marty had been standing by her door, heatedly making out when Rory suddenly pulled away with a gasp. She gazed into his eyes, her expression full of love. "I want to take you to bed, Marty."

Marty had to shake his head to clear it of the intoxicating reverie of kissing Rory, certain that he had misheard. "I'm sorry?"

Gulping, but her eyes never wavering, Rory ran her hands up Marty's forearms, feeling the firm strong flesh under his shirt. "I want to make love to you," she murmured. She knew Paris would be out, off for an all-nighter in Bass Library, which was clear across campus. And if they were quiet about it, they could conceivably have their fun without waking up Rory's other suitemates in the next double room.

But whereas Rory was fully ready for whatever might come next, Marty was not. In fact, he was dazed. Rory Gilmore wanted him enough to sleep with him? And after only one date? He had never taken her to be that kind of girl. She certainly wasn't a slut - the farthest thing from it - but he got the singular impression things were moving too fast. Faster than he would like, anyway. He and Rory were still exploring a heightened level of intimacy, embarked upon ever since his stint in the hospital. But they weren't that intimate yet - nor, in Marty's view, were they ready to be.

And so, even though it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, Marty put his arms around her, kissed her forehead and murmured into her hair, "Not tonight, babe. Maybe another time."

He tried not to read too much into the expression of disappointment in Rory's face. He hoped there wasn't too much hurt. Bracing her up against the wall and kissing her rather indecently, Marty finally released her lips, whispered, "I love you," and headed up to his floor.

Rory stayed out in the hall for quite a long time, her mind in a fog. Had she blown it? Had she killed any chance with the man she loved while still in its cradle? She had pushed him too hard, she could see that.

She only hoped she hadn't pushed him away.

* * *

The next day was Saturday, and throughout all of it, Marty could not even find the concentration to study as his mind kept going back over his night with Rory.

The regret for how he had left things started the minute he had climbed into bed. Her gorgeous face haunted his dreams.

Marty was still a virgin, and he had always been plagued by serious doubts that any woman would sleep with him willingly. And yet, when Rory handed the opportunity to him, practically gift-wrapped, he had spurned it. Why? Out of some reason to spare her? No, that wasn't it. Rory would not have asked to be with him out of pity. It would be because Rory genuinely wanted to.

Marty started to tick off what he and Rory already had. They knew close to everything about each other. They loved each other - that was clear. So what was holding him back?

Marty still hadn't come to an answer by the time the sun set over the hills. He wasn't in the mood to go out partying tonight, and with little in the way of productivity, he decided to turn in early. Carl joined him in their room a few minutes later.

But like the night before, Marty refused to go to sleep. Rory's bewitching image was still in his head. He tried pleasuring himself with his pillow between his legs, but that only did so much. Feeling hot, he got up and padded into the hallway to get a drink of water.

That was when he heard a noise from downstairs. And Paris Geller's commanding voice. "Come on, you nitwits, get a move on! The princess needs her beauty sleep!" Peeking along the bannister, Marty could see three girls leaving Durfee 105. Rory was not among them.

Marty shrank back against the wall, mind whirring. He knew Paris did nice things for Rory - even if their execution was a little frosty, it always came from a place of love. And now Rory was being left in her room. Alone. For a few hours at least.

He squared his shoulders. He knew what he had to do - and humping his pillow wasn't going to get it done, with Carl snoring a few feet away. Rushing back to his room, he threw a bathrobe on over his pajamas, and padded down the hall to Rory's suite.

_20 seconds of courage_, he told himself, before knocking on the door.

"Did you forget something, Paris...?" Rory's voice trailed off in surprise as she opened the door. Marty stared at her tremulously.

"Hi."

She blinked, and seemed to know exactly what he was there for. "Hi... Come in." And she held it out wide for him, letting him pass before she closed the door...

* * *

The moonlight pierced only a little through the darkness, as Rory moved to straddle him. Looking more confident than she felt, she removed her top and cast it aside before unclipping her bra.

In silent response, his eyes not leaving hers, Marty shucked off his bathrobe to reveal his bare chest underneath. The scars ran down the length of his chest, pearlized lines and ridges that blazed a path down to where his bellybutton should have been. That was the place where the doctors had sewn him up all those years ago.

Gazing upon her bare breasts, Marty breathed out long and low. "You're beautiful, you know. More than I've ever dreamed."

Rory bit her lip and hugged herself. She had always been of the opinion that her breasts were kind of small. "No, I'm not," she murmured quietly.

Marty cupped a hand to her cheek. "You _are_," he whispered, his voice filled with fire. "I love you."

Her blue orbs filled with tender love, Rory bent over him and began to press feather-like kisses along the scars on his chest. When she reached his face, Marty captured her lips in his and they rolled over in each other's embrace. Wriggling close, the couple began to make love...

* * *

Rory woke up crying. Not because she regretted what had happened with Marty, no - her body still sang from where he had touched her. It was what occurred after they had fallen asleep that had her so moved.

And stirring against her, Marty now noticed.

"You're crying..." his fingers brushed her cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"It was a dream. A really good dream. We... we were together. We had children."

Marty crinkled his brow in thought. "Children?"

"Our... our children," Rory wept. "I wanted it to be real."

Marty rocked her close. "It can be," he soothed. "Someday."

The double room was now bathed in sunshine. Across the room, Paris's bed was still empty. She must not have come home last night.

"I'm not too worried about Paris," Rory chuckled through the last of her tears. "Even if something did happen to her and Tana and them, Doyle would look after them." She rose languidly from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower." Turning back to Marty, she smiled and tugged at his hand. "And you can keep me company."

And the couple made love again under the sprays until Rory came apart orgasmically in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11: Part for the Summer

**Chapter 11: Part for the Summer **

Their bags were packed, grouped in piles besides the door to their dorm. Marty was gamely helping Lorelai and Rory load the last of her stuff into the back of a green truck, apparently on loan from a family friend. While Lorelai waited in the driver's seat, Marty and Rory kissed and kissed until they had to break apart for air.

"I'll call every day," Marty promised. "And we'll go in together on reserving rooms in the same dorm, just like this year."

"I'm going to miss you," Rory moaned, placing herself at rest in his arms. "Promise you won't forget me?"

"Forget you?" Marty ogled. Leaning against her ear, he whispered, "I won't forget how you took me on your hardwood floor the night before finals."

Rory let out a little yip and flushed scarlet. Both jumped at Lorelai honking the horn once without any malice. They kissed again in frantic pecks, allowed themselves one more hug, before Rory jumped into the passenger seat.

"I love you!" she hollered as the green truck drove away.

Marty beamed, his hand raised in farewell. "I love you back!"

* * *

Rory woke up in her childhood bedroom in Stars Hollow. It was good to be home, and she felt at peace. But despite everything and seeing childhood friends, she still missed Marty. It had been three weeks since she kissed him goodbye at Durfee, and already it felt like an eternity.

Lorelai was not immune to noticing. She observed how Rory would sometimes let out a pining sigh at the breakfast table, or when she caught her caressing a prized picture of Marty now placed with honor on her her nightstand. Yup, her baby girl had it bad.

Good thing she had already placed a strategic phone call...

As if on cue, the rumble of a truck could be heard pulling up to the Crap Shack outside.

"I wonder who that could be?" Rory mused.

"Maybe it's Luke coming to fix our stuff and yell at us again!" Lorelai quipped through a mouthful of cereal, hanging back so Rory could answer the door.

But when the youngest Gilmore got onto the porch, her heart stopped when she saw a very familiar head of curly black hair stepping out of the car. Back in the house, Lorelai counted down. "And 3... 2... 1..."

Rory's squeal nearly woke the whole neighborhood, as she pelted across the lawn and threw herself into Marty's arms, attacking him with kisses.

"What... Mmmmm... what are you doing here?" she panted between furious pecks.

"I was told my Juliet was pining for me, and Lady Capulet decided to stage an intervention. Your Romeo is here!" Marty cheekily grinned.

Rory turned red and smacked his chest. "Shut up. I have _not_ been pining."

"Oh, yes, you have, Sugah!" a raspy voice from one too many cigarettes weighed in, as Babette waddled onto her front porch next door, her hair in curlers. "Mmmm! That boy of yours is _fine_, doll! No half-assed kisses for him!"

"Hi, Babette!" Rory waved happily, smirking in amusement at Marty's mortified face.

"Your next door neighbor is pretty horny," he observed as Babette walked away.

"That's nothing. I'm not letting you within 100 feet of Ms. Patty," Rory grinned, linking her arm through his. "Come on, I want to show you around town." And she dragged him away, ignoring Marty as he pointedly asked, "Who's Ms. Patty?"

Their first stop was at Luke's Diner, the bell jingling cheerily as Rory led Marty in. "Mom and I have been coming here since I was a baby!" she prattled on, leading them both over to a table. "Luke!" she called to a curmudgeonly gentleman behind the counter. "I want you to meet my boyfriend, Marty."

In his backwards baseball cap, Luke circled the counter. Muscles rippling under a weathered flannel, Marty imagined the diner owner could have been a baseball player in another lifetime. Luke approached the couple, arms folded as he looked Marty up and down. In spite of himself, Marty gulped. Was he meeting the father? From the dirty look Luke was sending him, it sure seemed that way.

"You're blessed with this one," he gestured at Rory, eyes still on Marty. "Don't screw it up." His gaze swiveled to the Gilmore daughter. "And no kissing in this establishment, young lady."

Rory gawped, even as she giggled a little in surprise. "Luke..." she whined. "Who came up with that rule?"

"I suppose that's my fault," a young man with spiky black hair grinned as he sauntered over. "Or, more appropriately, our fault. That loft has never seen more exciting days!"

Marty noticed how Rory's eyes went wide and a rouged tinge appeared on her cheeks. "Jess!" she half-whispered, half-hissed.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Rory cleared her throat. "Marty, this is my ex, Jess. Jess, this is my boyfriend, Marty." The two men shook hands, the action coming off rather stiffly from the firmness of Jess's grip. The suitors locked eyes, sizing each other up. From Rory's perspective, the curiosity, mixed in with some lingering jealousy, was apparent.

"You take good care of this girl," Jess echoed his uncle. "She's worth it."

"Damn right," Luke grunted, before ambling off to place another order.

Rory turned to look at Marty, smiling weakly. At least, he had met some of her extended family.


	12. Chapter 12: Daddy Issues

**Chapter 12: Daddy Issues **

Marty woke up late on a chilly January morning, just as he did on most Tuesdays and Thursdays this semester. His first seminar wasn't until the afternoon, following lunch, and Rory would be out of her morning class by then. Showering quickly and dressing, Marty left Branford residence hall to meet up with his girlfriend.

He found her in the quad just beyond Branford, no doubt on her way back to check on him and hurry him along for lunch. Only trouble was, there was a guy with her.

From the looks of him, he was young, though too old to be a Yale student. He had brown hair, clean-cut, and wore a leather jacket. He could have passed for a biker. He and Rory were talking, and from the stressed looks on both of their faces, it was clear they were in the middle of an argument.

Marty stole across the quad and hid behind a column to get a better look... and also to hear better. He did not like eavesdropping on his girlfriend, but if she was in trouble, he wanted to know what he could to help her. From his new vantage point, he got a better read on the gentleman Rory was talking with.

"My dad just passed away... come on, kid. I just wanna talk!"

"You always want to talk when you're in trouble!" Rory fumed. "I just... I can't deal with you right now. And neither can Mom!"

That was when Marty realized: the biker guy had the exact shade of striking blue eyes as his girlfriend... Rory's eyes...

Rory's father...

The biker guy sighed, gave Rory an awkward hug that she barely tolerated, and walked away. Marty waited a moment or two, then backtracked to come around a corner, as if he was coming from the direction of Branford.

"Good morning, my love!" he chirped, pecking Rory on the cheek. Then, he paused, sensing the taste of salty wetness upon his lips. Tears. "Hey... what's wrong?"

Rory just grabbed his hand and led them both in the direction of the dining commons. "I'll tell you later."

* * *

Marty only had a vague idea of what a wedding renewal was, but when Rory had invited him along as her date, there was no way he could say no. Any night with his girl was a lovely night, irrespective of the occasion, and he knew Rory's maternal grandparents were very important to her.

He loved how she laughed and smiled as he spun her about in his arms all evening. Finally, red-faced and beaming after a particular raucous dance number, she laced her fingers through his. "Let's go," she whispered conspiratorially.

She led Marty up to the deserted second floor of the reception hall, and entered the first unlocked door they tried. The moment the door closed behind them, Rory tackled Marty onto a nearby bed, her face sporting an impish grin. "Tonight, you belong to me, mister."

Rory and Marty wasted no time getting their clothes off, and soon Marty was wiggling above her, sliding in and out gently. Rory arched her back, keening into him and moaning happily. It had been ages since they made love like this...

A sudden banging made them both jump apart from their kiss, Rory yelping in fright as they both glanced up to find... Lorelai standing in the doorway.

If Lorelai was shocked and mortified, the expression only momentarily stayed on her face, before being replaced by an oddly placid calm. Yet her voice was terse as she announced, "Grandma wants a picture."

"Of this?" Rory squeaked, squirming under where Marty was still half-buried inside of her.

"You're doing it... at your grandparents' wedding... renewal... vow thing... whatever! They're right out there! God, Rory, I swear!"

"Rory?" And Marty watched with horror as Rory's father barged in, his eyes nearly popping out of his head when he beheld the couple.

"Christopher, calm down..." Lorelai tried to defuse fruitlessly.

Chris advanced on Marty dangerously, who scrambled off the bed and nearly tripped in his haste to put distance between himself and the father of his girlfriend.

"What the hell are you doing in here with my daughter?" Chris asked lividly.

"I... I..." Marty held his hands up in surrender, but it did little good.

"You stay away from her... that is my _daughter_! I will kick your ass!" Chris screamed as Lorelai mercifully dragged him away. "I will kick your ass, you little weasel!"

The door slammed shut behind Rory's parents, their raised voices able to be heard from outside. Looking at each other, Marty and Rory scrambled frantically to put their clothes on.

"Calm down? There's a guy in there defiling my daughter..."

"... guy in there with Rory?" Another man's voice boomed. Next second, the door banged open and Marty jumped almost a foot in the air as Luke advanced, looking every bit the picture of a papa bear. "HEY! Get your hands off her, I mean it! Right now! Hands in the air! I wanna see hands in the air!" He hurled invective at Marty as Lorelai backed him up and out of the room.

"OUT!" Lorelai bellowed, slamming the door in both men's faces and turning to face the children. She smiled tightly, her pearly whites gleaming. "I think you guys had better use the back way out of here," she suggested, far too cheerily.

"But Dad... Luke..." Rory spluttered.

"I will take care of Dad and Luke. Please go - now," Lorelai commanded. Though Marty wasn't sure how Lorelai could keep not one, but two father figures from tearing him limb from limb (or even why she would want to) as he could hear Chris and Luke arguing clearly through the door:

"I'm gonna kill him!"

"No, _I'm_ gonna kill him!"

Rory hastily took the back exit, but as Marty made to follow her, Lorelai's voice stopped him. "Oh, and Marty?" Against his better judgement, he turned back. She was fixing him with a serious stare. "If you ever want to marry Rory, you had better come ask my permission first."

Marty gulped. "Yes, ma'am." And he escaped, his mind whirring. In the middle of that truly bizarre confrontation, had he just gotten... Lorelai's approval? Well, all things considered, that was probably the most approval he was ever going to get.


	13. Chapter 13: Estrangement

**Chapter 13: Estrangement**

There was only one place on campus Rory felt she could comfortably go whenever she was feeling at her worst. So it was upon returning to Yale after Christmas break of her and Marty's junior year. She let herself right in - by now in a singleton of his own, Marty felt no qualms about giving his girlfriend an extra key.

The man she loved was at his desk, pouring over notes. Rory simply plopped into his lap unannounced and rested her head on his shoulder. She sighed in relief as she felt him stroke her brown hair, press a kiss along the strands.

"What's wrong, my darling?"

Rory sighed heavily. "Mitchum Huntzberger called me into his office my last day over work, over the break. He said I didn't have it."

That got Marty's attention, and he shifted himself beneath Rory so as to better face her. "He what?"

Rory's eyes swam with tears. "I don't even know what I did wrong!"

"Hey, hey, hey... sssh... sssh..." Marty pulled her close. "He's wrong. He's the one who's wrong. Have you talked to Logan about it?" Since becoming a couple, Logan had - much to Marty's surprise - become one of their closest friends.

Rory meekly shook her head. "I don't want to put him in an awkward position against his dad. Anyway, you're the only person I felt I could talk to."

"What about your mom?" Marty frowned.

Rory bit her lip awkwardly. "About that..."

It had happened the night before, when Rory had come home in tears from her newspaper internship, and all she wanted was to start packing her things and drive her car back to school. Luke, her mother's new boyfriend, had tried to talk to her, and when that didn't work, Lorelai stormed unto the breaches herself. After Rory admitted what happened, she was shocked by Lorelai immediately assuming that Rory had truly done something wrong. An argument ensued before either Gilmore girl knew what was happening or how to stop it. Rory had fled from Stars Hollow dejected, only to have Lorelai rub salt into the wound by trying to continue their shouting match over the phone. Eventually, Rory hung up. Marty listened to this entire sad tale in raptured silence.

Rory buried her face in her hands and wept. "We've never fought like this... never..."

"No," Marty mused. "But you have fought."

She peeked at him through her long lashes and her fingers. "What's your point?"

Marty chuckled. "My point is you'll make up again, same as you always do. You and Lorelai are far too close to hold a silly little grudge."

Rory appeared unconvinced. "This is more than that, honey. She's convinced I did something, and I can't convince her that I did not! I can't having that hanging over my head while going to school." She took a deep breath. Here was the hard part, but if there was one thing on which she and Marty had agreed when they first started seeing each other, it was that they would always be honest. "That's why I went to see the Registrar today. I'm dropping out of Yale."

Marty nearly dumped her off his lap, never mind falling out of the chair himself. "You what?!"

"Everything's coming apart!" Rory blubbered. "And I can't risk my grades while I'm so fragile emotionally! I'll have to move out of the dorm and find a place to stay!"

"Oh no, you won't!" Marty growled firmly. "You have a place to stay, and it's right here with me!"

Rory gaped at him. "This room is a singleton! And I'm no longer a student..."

"The administration doesn't have to know!" Marty hissed softly, taking her hands in his. "Just shift your stuff up one floor with me, and we share the bed! We've been sleeping together for months." He sighed, laughing a little at himself. "I didn't exactly expect this to be the situation when asking you to move in with me, but there we are." He cupped her cheeks, rubbing Rory's face with his thumbs. "Only a select few people, like Paris and Logan, need to know. If this is what you really want, I will support it. Just stay with me!"

Rory's eyelids drooped and her heart swelled with love for this man. "I will," she murmured, before melting into a searing kiss.

* * *

Moving all of Rory's things out of her and Paris's room and into Marty's wasn't the problem. The real test came when Emily and Richard Gilmore insisted on throwing Rory her 21st birthday party at her mansion. By October, things still had not cleared up between Rory and her mother, and Marty had to admit - he was starting to get quite concerned. No - panicked was more like it. What mother and daughter did not speak to each other for nine months? Nine months, man - he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Rory seemed to lean on him physically as much as emotionally, as Marty dutifully accompanied her to the bash in her honor as her date. Paris Geller and Doyle McMaster also attended, and even Logan made an appearance.

But the real shock of the night was when Lorelai Gilmore arrived in the foyer with Luke Danes on her arms.

When the Inn owner and her fiancé approached (Rory had learned on intelligence from childhood friend Lane that the couple was engaged), the two couples regarded each other awkwardly. The tension could have been cut with a knife, and Marty begged for either one of them to say something, anything.

But Lorelai and Rory could say no more than one or two-word stilted sentences to each other. The birthday girl graciously accepted her present from Luke, eyeing him guiltily, torn apart that she had put her stepfather-to-be in the most damningly of awkward positions. Soon, the singing of Happy Birthday led her away.

Lorelai and Luke left shortly after that, only under Marty's watchful eye. As he locked eyes with the adults, Marty registered the plea in their collective gaze: _Take care of her_. He nodded.

It was a painful ride home blanketed by Rory sobbing bitterly into Marty's arms.


	14. Chapter 14: Forgiveness and Stuff

**Chapter 14: Forgiveness and Stuff**

Things had not improved by semester's end. Lorelai and Rory had not spoken to nor hardly seen each other for nearly a year.

And it was apparently keeping an entire town, the entire municipality of Stars Hollow, perpetually on edge.

Sookie St. James tried to force an end to the familial cold war by tapping Lorelai and Rory to be godmothers for her children. Marty studied her efforts with sympathy. It would take more than forcing mother and daughter into a room to get them to love again. Though, when Rory asked him to, he attended the baptism anyway, out of loyalty towards the love of his life.

Forgiveness has no timetable, it is said. But for poor Marty, he needed there to be one - desperately. Interacting coldly at birthday parties and baptisms was one thing. But at weddings... well, Marty would not stand for that. At least he hoped it wouldn't be that way. As he had by now well understood, it was up to Lorelai and Rory. But just in case, he had taken Lorelai up on that implication she had laid before him, on that night when he had lost the remaining part of his heart to Rory... and nearly lost his life - _again_. Apparently, the mother was all for it.

It all came to a head one night when Rory woke up with a scream in the bed they shared, tears streaming down her cheeks. Marty held her wordlessly, listening as she retold her nightmare.

"We had babies... we went to visit Mommy and Luke in Stars Hollow, and... they didn't know them! Everyone was so angry... and cold... So cold..." She shivered violently against him, and stared up into Marty's face. "I have to see her Marty - now!"

Marty didn't need to be told twice. He hopped them both in the car and drove them both to Stars Hollow - a route he had long since memorized. On the way, Rory dried her tears, and to test the waters, decided to call her mother and divulge big news about a writing gig she had accepted just a few days earlier. To her surprise, Lorelai responded enthusiastically, and the girls were still gabbing when Marty pulled up. Rory leapt out before the car had even come to a complete stop and raced across the lawn. Lorelai threw her arms around her.

"I was stupid!"

"I was _more_ stupid!"

"I should have pulled you out of there..."

"I love you, Mom..."

"Oh, kid..." Lorelai wept. "You have no idea..."

Watching from afar, Marty broke into a relieved smile, finally at peace.


	15. Chapter 15: The Future

**Chapter 15: The Future**

That next spring, Luke and Lorelai got married. Rory was moved to tears upon learning that the couple had postponed their wedding for the express purpose of waiting until Rory and Lorelai had reconciled. It had been a risky bet, one that Luke ultimately won - or, to be more accurate, Kirk won, as someone had started an illicit betting pool over when the Gilmore Girls would be reunited. No one ever did find out who started it. But the biggest shock of all was when Rory, as the Maid of Honor, discovered that she had a new stepsister - a little girl named April who was Luke's long-lost child. Now, the family was united together.

But they weren't yet complete...

Rory re-enrolled at Yale, and she and Marty were more in love than ever. With his constant support and help, Rory managed to graduate on time with her class and all of her friends. She had also been thrilled when she was offered a position with Senator Barack Obama's presidential campaign - an offer that she had accepted.

It was a beautiful, warm, spring day, as Rory and Marty strolled hand in hand, in their cap and gowns, up to the Sterling Library. They ascended the steps, up to the second floor, to a favorite reading nook that always gave them a perfect view of campus.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Rory whispered.

Marty smiled tightly. "Lovely. Just lovely." It was all he could do to cover how he was dying inside. "I can't imagine leaving here after only four years."

Rory eyed him, amused. "Why not, silly?"

"Because it might mean having to leave you. Unless..."

Rory cocked on eyebrow. "Unless...?"

20 seconds of courage. Probably less, but Marty wasn't exactly interested in mathematics as he dropped to one knee with a ring. Rory's hands clapped to her mouth in astonishment. "Oh my God..."

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore..."

"Oh my God..."

"Will you marry me?"

There was a long silence. At last, through her tears, Rory whimpered and nodded. "Yes. Yes!" Marty deflated in relief and helped her put on the ring. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lorelai, who immediately deduced what was happening and ran off to tell her mom and dad.

* * *

It was many months later, clustered away in Stars Hollow, when Rory Gilmore checked herself out in her wedding dress in the floor-length mirror. The entire ceremony would be held at the Dragonfly Inn and her grandmother Emily had spared no expense. Hidden away here in one of the guest rooms, only Luke Danes observed her proudly. He was also in a slight state of disbelief.

"You look beautiful, baby girl," he whispered. Rory turned back to her stepfather and beamed at him lovingly. Baby Girl was a new nickname, to go along with the pet name of princess he had employed with her when she was little. And now, she noticed most movingly, Luke was actually having a really hard time trying not to cry. "Look at me!" he scolded himself. "If I get it this bad with you, I'm going to be an utter wreck when April gets married!"

Rory just laughed and hugged him. "I'm touched, all the same, Daddy Luke." She drew back and dabbed at her own eyes, not wanting her mascara to get ruined. "Ready to give me away?"

"No," Luke answered honestly. "But if it will make you happy..." and he offered her his arm.

Luke escorted Rory down the aisle, up to the altar set up at the back of the inn. It had actually not taken a lot of convincing for Christopher to allow Luke to give the Princess of Stars Hollow away, with her father saying he understood. He was in the front row, in attendance, and looking very weepy.

Luke passed Rory off to a stunned Marty, who looked like he was about to have a stroke, then all but dove into his front row seat, where Kirk had the temerity to actually rest the diner owner's head on his chest - the consoler-in-chief.

Reverend Skinner and Rabbi Barans jointly blessed them, and Rory and Marty exchanged rings. Then Marty began his vows.

"The first time I saw you, it was at the coffee cart just across from Durfee. You were wearing a little orange polo, and it was at that moment that I realized that if I couldn't have you... I'd die." A few people in the audience who had been present for his heart attack laughed morbidly. "Knowing that you love me means my life and has brought me back to life."

Rory teared up and she was grateful that the vows she had written were much more simple. "I love you. It might seem banal compared to your wonderful words, but I love you." She started at him helplessly, then said with conviction, "I love my husband."

Two minutes later, those words were no longer premature.

* * *

The newlyweds - just 23 - were bathed in Hawaii moonlight, undulating against each other as they consummated their marriage. Made sweet love after being tied together at last.

"Oh, God... oh please, oh please, oh _please_..."

"Hmmm... Jesus, I love you... Rory..."

"Oh, Marty... Marty..." she keened into his face until finally with a cute little whimper, she came.

It took both the bride and the groom a while to come down from their high, as they simply held each other in the darkness. After several moments, Marty's phone suddenly rang. He groaned and reached for the nightstand.

"I knew we should have taken that advice from Ms. Patty..."

"What?" Rory propped herself up on one elbow, grinning at him bemusedly. "About not bringing our phones?"

"Precisely," Marty winced, as he groped for his device. "I thought she was an expert... she has been married three times..." He flipped the phone open. "Hello, this is Marty Walker... Oh, Mr. Biersch! Hi! Yes, yes, I got your email... Oh my goodness, really? You're joking. Thank you so much, sir! I'll start as soon as I get back from my honeymoon. Thank you! Bye!" He hung up and turned to Rory, grinning from ear to ear. "I got the brewing gig with Gordon-Biersch in Hartford!"

Rory shrieked and embraced him, laughing. "Looks like that recommendation from Logan paid off! I guess that means I can share my good news."

"What is it?"

Rory blushed. "I got that position with the Stamford Gazette. It seems my experience on the Obama campaign after graduation really helped me."

Marty beamed and pecked her lips. "I'm proud of you." The couple sank back into the bedclothes. "Look at us! Hartford and Stamford!" A sudden thought struck him. "Commutes will be decent, though. Where are we gonna live?"

Rory stared at him, eyes twinkling. "I've got some ideas..."


	16. Chapter 16: Baby Walker

**Chapter 16: Baby Walker**

Marty arrived at Luke's during the peak of the lunch rush. He found his stepfather-in-law over by the counter, taking down some orders.

"Hey, Luke! I need a ham on rye, please. I'm taking it to Rory at the Twickham House to check up on her."

"Can you stop referring to it as the Twickham House? You did buy the place. But, sure thing," Luke crossed to the order window. Then his gaze and a warning finger snapped to a table in the corner. "Kirk, if you double dip your biscotti in that coffee mug _one more time..._" The phone was all that prevented Luke from committing murder in his own diner. "Hello?... Hey, princess. How's the baby?" All at once, Luke's face went ashen. Ghostly pale. "What? It's coming?!"

Marty panicked. "Give me the phone."

"No." Luke pushed him back and kept him at bay. It was a pretty impressive feat of strength for only one hand, and it made Marty think that his stepfather-in-law could go a round with Liam Neeson and Chuck Norris without breaking a sweat.

"Remember to breathe. I'm coming... Yes, I've got him. I love you." He hung up. "We're closed. Out! Everybody Out!" He ignored the uproar, whisking Kirk's food away to make sure he left and then grabbing Marty. "You come with me!"

* * *

It was many hours later when Rory was still flat on her back with big, fat ankles and swearing like a sailor on leave.

"Sweets, do you want any more ice..." Lorelai began.

"If you come near me with those again, I will pelt them at your head!" Rory screamed. Her mother jumped back.

Overseeing the delivery in her second year of medical school and already apprenticed to an OBBYN, Paris winced. "I think it's safe to let Marty back in."

Before the birth, Rory had made Marty get out for his own safety. He had been reluctant to leave her, but his wife had insisted. Now, Paris briefly exited the delivery room to retrieve Marty and led him over to his wife.

"I'm sorry..." Rory wept as Marty finished kissing her. "I didn't want to..."

"You didn't," Marty soothed. "And you won't. You won't do anything but welcome our baby."

"Our baby..." Rory echoed almost dreamily. "I..." She grimaced in pain. "Oh, Gods, it's really happening..."

Before long, she was being instructed to push. After boring down and nearly feeling like she would die from the pain, a plaintive cry could be heard. And then, a baby was placed in her arms. Rory knew immediately what it would be named.

"Winnifred Lorelai."

* * *

It was about a year later when Marty arrived back at the Twickham House very tired. He was cold and hungry. Entering his beloved abode, he deposited his jacket, waved a quick greeting to Rory and sat down in the living room to finish a report for work. Soon, his wife joined him, a fed and burped baby Winnifred nestled in the crook of her arm. Rory stroked his arm lovingly.

"How was work?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old," Marty grunted, tapping away at the last of his report and sending it off. That done, he glanced up and pulled his wife into a deep kiss.

"Mmmm..." she smiled into the kiss. "You taste like wine."

"Yeah, sorry, we were at a testing most of the day." He reached out a finger to caress Winnifred's cheek. After a moment of silence, he sighed. _20 seconds of courage_, he recalled their old mantra. "Rory? Darling? I want to ask you something."

"Ask away," she chirped, bouncing their little girl.

"How would you feel... about me starting my own business?"

He noticed her pause in her attentions to Winnifred, but otherwise her features showed little change. "I would... be fine with it. Why do you ask?"

"It's just that, I know you and I have been splitting time off work since the baby was born. I've been running the numbers; we would be fine for a while on your income as I got the place up and running. I don't think we'd need to take out a loan, and there's that empty shopfront right there on Plum Street."

"For a brewery!" Rory's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Oh, honey, I think you should go for it! You always say how you want to experiment, try your own thing. And if we asked Logan, I'm sure he would sponsor you. Let's speak with the landlord. Who owns the building?" When her husband just held her gaze, her smile faltered. "Oh, no."

Marty grimaced. "Oh, yeah."


	17. Chapter 17: Our Little Corner of the Wor

**Chapter 17: Our Little Corner of the World**

"Attention, everybody! I hereby call this town meeting of Stars Hollow to order!" Taylor Dosse called prompously as he banged his gavel down on the pulpit. "Now: the first order of business: a petition for a brewery in town has been brought forth to me by a Mr. Marty Walker..."

"Oh, for God's sake, you _know_ who I _am_, Taylor! You were at my wedding!" Marty growled. Rory just winced apologetically at his side as she bounced Winnifred in her arms. Lorelai looked close to tears.

"Oh... he sounds more like his stepfather-in-law every day..." she beamed with emotional pride.

Taylor pretended he hadn't heard them. "Now, people, while Rory and her family are the pride and joy of this here town," he said this like someone was pulling out his teeth. "I must warn you against the allure of a brewery. It could very well serve as a vehicle of sin and debuachery..."

"Sin and debauchery?" Luke snarled in disbelief. "How are my daughter and her husband supposed to live?" Rory's cheeks turned pink as she beamed at the man who had pretty much adopted her in all but name.

"You can't touch my alcohol!" Andrew called out defiantly.

"If we can get an ulcer from eating Taylor's candy, we can risk getting a coronary from Marty's beer!" Babette rationalized in a raspy voice.

Ms. Patty moved the measure to a vote. "All in favor of opening a Stars Hollow Brewery on Plum Street, please say Aye!" A unanimous chorus went up; Taylor looked peeved. "The Ayes have it!"

The Town Selectman warily sighed. "Meeting adjourned." Marty and Rory happily embraced.

* * *

**Four Years Later **

"Honey? Come on, get in the car! We're going to be late!"

Rory emerged from the Twickham House at her husband's call, smiling with her hand clasped in those of their little girl. Winnifred Lorelai Walker was quite the precocious child at seven years old, and now enthusiastically wore a Yale baseball cap.

Her parents were taking her to meet some friends at their old alma mater, and as the family drove along, Winnie chatted to them happily about Yale. "Did Great Grandpa really go to Yale too, Mommy?"

"He sure did," Rory nodded. "A long time ago, before you or I or your Grandma Lorelai was born."

"We're here," Marty announced, pointing out the incoming sight of Phelps Gate. He pulled into a parking space and the little family skipped along the bricks until they reached the old quad just outside Durfee.

"See this place, Winnie?" Marty pointed out. "This is where I first met Mommy."

"Rory!" The group turned to see Doyle and Paris McMaster running up excitedly. "It's so good to see you!" The friends embraced.

"You couldn't forget my face, could you?" a head of blonde hair brought up the rear. Rory shook her head, bemused, as she hugged Logan.

"Still single, I see."

"They'll never take me alive!" Logan winked. "And here's Winnie!"

"Hi, Uncle Logan!"

"Marty!" The former rivals clasped hands. "I had a colleague of mine visit your brewery; he loved it! I want to talk to you about catering my next function with the paper."

Marty's eyes went wide. "Oh, thank you, Logan! Your dad won't mind?"

Logan scoffed. "No. Leave it all to me. Here's my card."

Rory watched the reunion with a happy smile on her face. It was just the kind of life she had imagined for herself. She was writing as a journalist, and living contentedly as a mother and wife in her beloved hometown. And the man she adored was by her side. What could be better?


End file.
